Free 44: Book Three by Jools Sinclair Page A

he will be working late tonight, so he can’t meet you in the library.”
    Such a shame , I thought.
    “Hey, I’m glad you’re safe, Abby,” Simon said. “Maybe I’ll see you down in the kitchen tomorrow.”
    “Not with the lock on the door.”
    “Oh, he will unlock it in the morning,” Simon said. “And you are free to roam around the house. He does request that you stay indoors though. For the time being.”
    I nodded and stared back over at the television.
    “Get some rest.”
    I heard the lock click and got up and ate dinner.
    I would take the rest of the night off. And in the morning I would begin using whatever time I had left to find another way.
     

 
    CHAPTER 20
     
    I looked out the window at the island for the first time since I’d been back. It seemed smaller in the early morning light. Farther away.
    I paced around the room, brainstorming.
    How would I get off this island?
    With the kayak gone, the boat at the dock was now the obvious answer. I would either have to find a key and take it myself, or sneak on board right before someone else drove off.
    I started thinking of other things I could do that didn’t involve leaving the island. I could find a phone, or a computer with internet access. They must have some, somewhere here or in the guest house. But where, and how could I get to them?
    The kayak was still a source of hope. They had made a mistake leaving it there, it was a serious oversight. And if they slipped up once, it could happen again. I had to be ready and leave no stone unturned.
    I had to assume that any chance of talking to Kate was now out of the question. I couldn’t afford to believe it in my heart. But in my mind I had to be ready. If the opportunity presented itself, what vague clues could I drop into the conversation that would suggest where I was without alerting Nathaniel?
    I came up with a few, more desperate ideas. I could send a message in a bottle. I had no doubt I would be dead long before anyone found it, let alone took it seriously. Along those lines, I remembered one of those survival shows I saw once where the host built a raft out of things he found on the beach of a small island. But I was pretty sure I didn’t have the skills or the time for that either.
    I could try writing SOS in the sand in giant letters with pieces of driftwood for a plane to see, but would anyone see it through the fog and clouds? And would they take it seriously or just write it off as a lame prank? Then I thought of setting the house on fire. If the flames got large enough, especially on a clear night, it could be seen from a long way.
    I remembered the two screams for help I got off before Jack and Phil captured me. There might be the slightest chance that someone heard me. They could have called the police. They could still be looking.
    Anything was possible.
    In the meantime, I knew it would be smart to pretend that I was beaten, as if the idea of escaping was completely out of my system, so that I could lull Nathaniel and his staff into a false sense of security. So that the next time I tried to escape, I would be successful.
    By late afternoon, I decided to go down to the kitchen and see if I could find Simon. As soon as I walked out into the hall, the air grew heavy with the rich smell of meat, rosemary, and something else. Hazelnuts. Simon knew his stuff.
    “Abby,” he said, looking over at me as I stood in the doorway outside the kitchen. He was wearing his apron.
    “Hey, Simon,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets. “The house smells great.”
    He was holding a large pot. He put it down on the counter.
    “I’m so glad you came down,” he said. “And perfect timing. I was just about to start the risotto. Want to help?”
    He opened a drawer, pulled out an apron and handed it to me.
    “Sure,” I said as I tied it around my waist. I washed my hands in the sink.
    “Risotto is one of my favorite dishes to make,” he said, grabbing two knives out of a locked drawer.